


Where the Heart Is

by lumosdragon



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Curse, Alternate Universe - No supernatural, Bisexual Waverly Earp, F/F, Fluff and Angst, No Smut, Slow Build, it's a lot of talking and introspection, particularly angst/confusion about sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2020-12-31 03:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21058274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumosdragon/pseuds/lumosdragon
Summary: "Waverly was undeniably glad to have her big sister back in Purgatory. At the same time, she couldn’t deny that it was sometimes – a little difficult."After a lifetime in the small town of Purgatory, things are finally starting to change for Waverly Earp - in her family, in her relationships, and in her understanding of herself. Whether or not she's ready for change is another matter entirely.(Basically: small town gay romance, with some family drama thrown in the mix.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's the Earp sisters you know and love, except without the Curse, Revenants or any other supernatural interference. Otherwise, I more or less follow canon.

The call wasn’t unexpected, but it was still disappointing.

“Sheriff? Is that you?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “…Waverly?”

“Yes, this is Waverly Earp. Do you need something? Is everything okay?”

She heard Sheriff Nedley’s awkward, uncomfortable cough. She knew him from the bar, where he was a regular. They got along – at least, she liked to think so. “Is your aunt there?”

Waverly’s heart sank. “This is about Wynonna, isn’t it?”

“I’d really rather talk to Gus –”

“Gus isn’t available right now,” Waverly lied. She glanced to the living room, where her aunt was watching TV, and lowered her voice. “Just tell me what happened. Is she okay? What did she do?”

“Nothing too serious, disorderly conduct, mostly. She’s alright, just hungover. She didn’t do too much damage to anything. Honestly, we took her in to make sure she didn’t hurt _herself_. She needs someone to pick her up.”

“I’m on my way.”

Waverly was undeniably glad to have her big sister back in Purgatory. At the same time, she couldn’t deny that things were sometimes – a little difficult. Over the years that Wynonna had been MIA, Waverly had almost forgotten: this was what it meant to have Wynonna Earp for a sister. Calls from the Sheriff, drunken mistakes, nights in jail cells. And an unexpected toll, one that seemed to affect no one but Waverly. Whenever Wynonna was around, Waverly did her best to be cheerful and excited, to show her how much she was loved, to stop her from running away again, and it was exhausting. She had started feeling less like Waverly Earp and more like an actor wearing a Waverly Earp costume. She tried to do and say Waverly Earp things, but every day she remembered less about what those things actually were.

She didn’t blame Wynonna, though. She _didn’t_. Her sister had been through a lot, and she understood that.

She tried not to think too much about Wynonna while she drove. Instead, she thought about cats. She wanted to adopt a kitten. Two kittens, maybe. A little black cat and a gray tabby. She would name them Shadow and Winter. They would skitter around the house and hide in the laundry basket and sleep on her bed at night..

The streets of Purgatory breezed by; Waverly lowered the windows and let the wind whip her hair into a frenzy. No Wynonna. No jail. Just cats.

The kitten fantasy was working well, right up until she entered the police station. Then a new set of problems began.

“Good morning, Ms. Earp. Here to collect your sister?”

Waverly forced herself to keep a straight face. For some reason, her chest felt tight. She stared at the ceiling, the floor, the back of her hands – anywhere but Officer Nicole Haught, who had risen from her desk and was walking over. She was surprisingly difficult to avoid, though. Probably because of how tall she was. She was _so tall_, and weirdly well-dressed on top of that. Waverly saw officers around Purgatory all the time, but she’d never realized how good their uniforms could look until she’d met Haught. Under her hat, her hair was the color of autumn, or bonfires.

“Morning! Yeah, I’m here for Wynonna. Obviously. Why else would I be at the station? I guess if something had happened at Shorty’s. Shorty’s is all good, though. We miss you around there, Officer Haught. It’s been a while since you’ve dropped by. ” Why did her voice sound so weird and high? Why couldn’t she stop talking? What was wrong with her? She cleared her throat and tried again. “Um, is there anything I need to sign, or…?”

“I’ve got all the paperwork right here. And I’ve told you, you can just call me Nicole.”

Waverly finally glanced up. Haught was smiling, so sweetly and brightly that it caught Waverly even more off guard than she already was. The pen Haught offered her slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor, and Haught bent over to pick it up.

“No! No, you don’t have to do that, I'll get it.”

“It’s no problem.” Haught dropped the pen back into Waverly’s palm. She smelled like vanilla.

Haught showed up at Shorty’s sometimes with Sheriff Nedley. Waverly had caught her boyfriend Champ eying up the officer a few times, and though she didn’t like it, she couldn’t blame him. There was something about Nicole Haught. Waverly had noticed it the moment she’d first met her. Whenever she was in the bar, it was as though she was the only person there, drawing in all the light and air. Maybe it was her job, or her proximity to the sheriff. Or maybe it was her lovely braids of warm, fiery red hair. Waverly was jealous of that hair. She was jealous of the whole package. She dreaded Haught’s visits to Shorty’s, because every time she was around, Waverly couldn’t stop staring at her. She couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like to be that tall, to have a uniform look so good on her. Nicole Haught stood out, but she didn’t seem to mind it; she moved and talked and breathed with an ease that constantly frustrated Waverly. She wanted existing to be as easy for her as Haught made it look.

“This is everything, right?”

“Yep. If you wait here a second, I’ll go get Wynonna for you.”

Once Haught was out of the room, Waverly let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She rubbed the back of her neck. It was always sore these days. Now that she wasn’t overwhelmed by her desire to be Nicole Haught, she was back to thinking about her sister. She knew exactly how Wynonna was going to show up – bedraggled, bleary-eyed, unresponsive. Waverly would bug her with questions all the way back home, and Wynonna would lean her head against the window and give evasive, increasingly snappy answers. It was the same every time.

Sure enough, there was Wynonna, with a face of smudged eyeliner and a shirt reeking of sweat and beer, glaring at Officer Haught as she tried to guide her to the waiting room. “I know where I’m going, Ginger Spice. This isn’t my first rodeo.” Her expression softened when she saw Waverly. “Oh. Hey, baby girl.”

Waverly hugged her, because that was the Waverly Earp thing to do. She was at it again, transforming into a marionette on invisible strings. Now scold her, Waverly. Now tell her to stop ignoring you, Waverly. Now let her keep ignoring you. Now ask her what she was doing last night. Now sigh when she won’t answer. Now drive. Keep driving. You can be annoyed, but you can’t be angry. That’s not the Waverly Earp way. If you’re not positive, if you’re not understanding, who will be?

She pulled up to the homestead. “I didn’t tell Gus where I was picking you up from. She doesn’t need to know, right? It’s only going to worry her –”

“She’s already guessed anyway.” Wynonna was out the door before Waverly had fully parked. “God, I’m so tired. I’m going to take a nap. You guys don’t need anything from me right now, do you?”

It’s already such a small fractured family, Waverly. There are so few of you left. Breathe and smile. “No, not right now. Get some rest.”

She was tired too. But she’d promised to come into Shorty’s early for inventory. She watched Wynonna tramp to the front door and rattle the door knob. She’d almost definitely misplaced her keys. Waverly had her own set on her. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should get out and help, then decided against it. She wasn’t being petty. She just didn’t want to be late for work. That was all. Really.

Now rub your eyes, Waverly. Now adjust the rear view mirror. Smile at your reflection. Pull a face. Imagine how much better this might be if you were tall and well-dressed and had hair the color of autumn or bonfires. Get annoyed that you’re still thinking about that. Just annoyed, not angry. You can’t do anger. That’s not the Waverly Earp way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who responded to chapter one! I hope to update weekly, probably on Mondays.

Waverly liked Champ best in the mornings, when she sat up in bed to watch him get dressed in the buttery light filtering through his bedroom curtains. He didn’t talk much, but sometimes he whistled or hummed, snippets of popular songs from the radio. It was nice to see him so unselfconscious and vulnerable.

“Oh, hey, babe. I didn’t realize you were awake.” Champ came over to drop a kiss on her cheek. “You gonna get up or stay in bed a little longer?”

“Stay in bed! It’s so _cold_.” Waverly wrapped her arms around a pillow and drew it close. “I don’t get how you expect me to sleep with just one blanket.”

Champ shrugged. Waverly waited for him to say something, but instead he picked up his cell phone and began poking at the screen. She tried again.

“Why are you already up, anyway? We only have plans in the afternoon.”

Champ looked up at her, frowning. “What? Oh, shit. Don’t hate me, baby.”

Waverly immediately knew what was coming. “You forgot about lunch, didn’t you?”

“No, I – I mean, I already told Kyle and the guys that I’d be meeting them today, for the game.” He grinned hopefully. “You get it, right? It’s the _game_.”

“Of course. You can’t miss the _game_,” Waverly said, only because she knew Champ wouldn’t recognize her sarcasm. She let him plant another kiss on her, but she didn’t reciprocate.

“Come on, don’t be like that. Look, I’ll take you out some other time, okay? Or do you want to come with me to see the game?” His face brightened. “We could make some snacks and drinks and stuff, to bring with us.”

He meant that _she_ could make snacks and drinks. She resisted rolling her eyes. “No thanks. You go ahead. We can do lunch tomorrow.”

“Thanks, babe.” Champ hesitated, his sneakers hanging from one hand. “I hate seeing you like this. You know you have the prettiest smile in all of Purgatory? So _smile_ for me.”

He pulled a silly face at her, the way people did with babies. Now smile, Waverly. Now kiss your boyfriend, Waverly. She drew her lips apart, bared her teeth. Champ grinned, encouraged.

“I’ll see you tonight, okay? Love you.”

“Love you too.”

She stayed in Champ’s bed after he left, watching the soft morning light grow brighter. It wasn’t much fun lying in the room alone. She could always go back home. For a second, she felt a heaviness on her chest at the thought of returning to the homestead – but no, actually, this could be a great opportunity to finally hang out with Wynonna, one-on-one.

It wasn’t nearly as hard as Waverly expected to convince Wynonna to come out with her. One mention of the breadsticks at Mama Olive’s diner was enough.

“I basically never wanted to come back to Purgatory,” Wynonna explained once they were sitting in a booth, “but weirdly, I did miss the bad gross diner food.”

She ate a breadstick in two bites, then immediately reached for another. It was the closest Waverly had seen her to happiness, which made her happy too, mostly. She grabbed a sugar packet and twisted it in her fingers. She tried to sound casual.

“So why did you come back, then? If you never really wanted to, I mean.”

Wynonna looked at her like she was an idiot. “Because I wanted to see you. I didn’t miss Purgatory, but I did miss you.”

Waverly smiled, and for once it felt natural. Wynonna started to smile back; then her gaze slid over Waverly’s shoulder, and she narrowed her eyes at the diner door. “Oh, great.”

Waverly turned, and almost immediately felt her stomach sink. Two people had just walked in – a woman she didn’t recognize, and Nicole Haught. She hadn’t really seen Haught out of uniform before, or with her hair loose. The unidentified woman said something, and Haught laughed. Her face was glowing with plain delight. Waverly’s chest tightened and she felt her cheeks grow warm. She had never been this intensely jealous of anyone before; it barely made sense, even to her.

Haught bent down to respond to her companion, then looked up. It took a moment for Waverly to register that they were staring at each other. Her cheeks grew even hotter. _Oh God, am I blushing? I’m definitely blushing. What now? What do I do?_

Haught raised a hand and waved. After what felt like a million years, Waverly raised her own hand and waved back. Then the situation finally overwhelmed her, and she quickly turned around in her seat.

“Molly Ringwald over there is the one who took me in the last time,” Wynonna muttered, tearing into a new breadstick, “Since when was it a crime to practice knife throwing in a public park? It’s for the _public’s_ use, isn’t it? I mean, it’s right in the name.”

“We need the lime knife back at Shorty’s, by the way,” Waverly said. She nibbled on her own breadstick and forced herself to focus on her sister. _This is nice_, she thought. _The Earp girls reunited._ _This is supposed to be nice. _

There was a brief stretch of silence, the two of them eating and peering around the diner with exaggerated casualness. Once the breadsticks were gone, Wynonna finally spoke. “I thought you were going to hang out with your _boyfriend_ today.”

Waverly bristled at the way she said “boyfriend.” Wynonna was a little too amused by Champ. It was obvious that she wasn’t laughing with him, but at him. Waverly was willing to ignore it most of the time, as long as it was subtle, but she was already sensitive that day.

“For your information, there’s a big game today. Champ really wanted me to watch with him, but I told him that I wanted to spend some time with you instead.”

“So you bailed on him for me? Waves, you shouldn’t have.” Wynonna didn’t sound particularly apologetic. She grinned and sat back as a waitress came over with a tray of dumplings and a massive plate of spaghetti. “Okay, we’re going to share, right? Because there’s honestly no point of a restaurant that serves Chinese _and_ Italian if you can’t have both in one meal.”

At some point, Waverly stopped telling herself what a good time she was having, and started actually having a good time. She laughed readily as Wynonna tried to steal a dumpling off her fork and described some crazy one night stand from her time in Greece. She explained her own life, her on-and-off history with Champ and the high school drama Wynonna had missed.

“I’m glad we did this, baby girl,” Wynonna said as Waverly searched through her wallet to pay the bill, “It was…really nice.”

“Are you finally starting to like it here? Thinking of settling down?” Waverly was only half-joking. Wynonna smirked.

“I wouldn’t go that far. Purgatory still sucks shit, and I don’t see that changing any time in the future.”

“Why do you hate it here so much, anyway?”

“Are you kidding me? It’s in the middle of nowhere, it’s got a population of judgmental freaks, there’s nothing to do but drink, which does _wonders_ for my genetic gift of alcoholism…and it reminds me.”

The mood had officially been killed, and Waverly was sorry for it. She didn’t ask Wynonna what she was reminded of. She didn’t have to. Their disappearing mother, who had abandoned them when Waverly was a baby. Their abusive father, who had died suddenly and left the two Earp sisters to their aunt’s care. Waverly didn’t remember much about either of them, but she knew her sister did. After a moment, Wynonna laughed, harsh and loud.

“The real question is why you _don’t_ hate the town. We have the same family reputation and genes and memories. It’s insane that you’ve lived here your entire life. I’d have thought by now you’d be as desperate to leave as I am, if not more.”

“Well, I’m not,” said Waverly shortly, “We should head out. I told Champ I’d meet up with him tonight.”

As they were leaving, they passed by the booth where Nicole Haught sat with her friend. Waverly willed herself to ignore them, stare straight ahead, but in the end she couldn’t help but glance over. The two of them were conversing earnestly, their hands inches apart on the table, and Waverly felt an unexpected pang. She missed – she wanted – what? Her family, healthy and whole? Her boyfriend? All of it, none of it, something in between?

She couldn’t figure it out. All she knew was that the sense of longing wasn’t new; it was embedded inside her these days, never too far away, rising up at the strangest moments. When she was waitressing at Shorty’s. When she was lying in bed at night. When she was walking out of a diner, and she saw the intimate space between two women’s hands.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the stray cat that spent a few days in my garden, following me around and screaming until I pet its head. Gone but not forgotten

According to Wynonna, Waverly had been to Arizona when she was one year old, when the Earps went on a trip. She didn’t remember it, though. A few months after the Arizona trip, their mother had left, and there was no chance of another family vacation after that. As far as Waverly was concerned, she had never been outside of Purgatory. The small town in the middle of nowhere, with the judgmental freaks and the alcoholism and the reminders, was and always had been her entire world. What Wynonna could not seem to comprehend was that Waverly didn’t mind that. She was fine sticking around Purgatory. In fact, she _liked_ sticking around Purgatory. She had a home. She had family. She knew people, and she was known. Sometimes she felt that being a bonafide Purgatory girl was the most satisfying part of her life.

“You’ve never left town either, have you?” she asked Champ. They were in her room, lying on her bed. Champ had his face buried in her neck. He looked up briefly to answer her.

“I went to Lethbridge once to see my cousin. It was cool.” He pressed his lips to hers and tried to stick his tongue into her mouth, but she pulled away.

“Have you ever wanted to leave? For good, I mean. Or do you think you’ll be in Purgatory for the rest of your life?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I haven’t really thought about it. What’s with all the questions?”

“Well…I was catching up with Wynonna a while back, and she made some comment about how weird it is that I – that – Champ!” He had slipped his hands under her shirt, and was trying to kiss her again. Waverly sat up, barely restraining the frustration that was bubbling up inside her. “Are you listening to me?”

“Look, are we doing this or not?” Champ demanded, “I thought you invited me over to –”

“I’m not in the mood anymore,” Waverly snapped. She stalked over to her bookshelf, yanked out a tome on American frontier law, and made a pointed show of examining it.

Champ hesitated. “So…do you want me to leave, or…?”

Waverly thought about yelling: “What I _want_ is for you to _talk_ to me for once. I want to have a conversation. Is that really too much to ask?” What she ended up doing was shrugging, and saying, “Do whatever. It doesn’t matter to me.”

At least Champ paused before he ventured out the door. “I’ll call you tonight,” he said. Waverly just nodded.

When she was sure he was gone, she shoved her book back on the shelf and bolted out the door, grabbing the car keys on her way. She didn’t know where she wanted to go, only that she needed to feel like she was heading _somewhere_. She couldn’t stop fuming. There were obviously reasons why she’d started dating Champ Hardy, but with every passing day, she was finding it harder and harder to remember them. He was cute, and he thought she was cute (except that sometimes she wasn’t sure if he cared about anything but her cuteness). He was fun in bed (except when he thought that sex was done because he was done). He had a goofy sweetness to him (except that sometimes the goofiness was indistinguishable from stupidity, like when he claimed that men were biologically incapable of putting the toilet seat down). He liked people, just like she did (except that there were some people, like her high school friend Robin, that he rejected for the vague reason that they were “kind of weird”). Was there anything she liked about him that didn’t require a disclaimer? It didn’t seem so, at least not anymore.

She didn’t want to be obsessing about Champ. There was no point in making herself miserable right now; she could figure out the whole mess later. She turned her mind back to cats instead. She didn’t need a boyfriend when she had her imaginary kittens, Shadow and Winter. She would raise them as her own children, and they would love her like a mother. Shadow would be the outgoing one, friendly with strangers, always excited to play. Winter would be shy and suspicious, only creeping out of his hiding places when he was sure that Waverly was the only human around.

There was a cat in the middle of the street. A real cat, big and disheveled and very orange, frozen in the headlights of the car. Waverly slammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop just in time. The cat leaped on to the sidewalk and pressed itself into the shade of a shrub, its ears and tail twitching. Waverly climbed out of her seat and approached it carefully. She fully expected it to run, but it stayed put, watching her warily until she was close enough to notice its collar.

“You’re a pet?” she murmured, bending to get a better look, “Do you mind if I –?” She stroked its head while checking the tag that dangled from its fluffy neck. “Calamity Jane,” she read, “And is this your owner’s phone number?” The cat didn’t answer, but she decided to assume its silence was a yes.

Calamity Jane was surprisingly willing to be picked up and loaded into the car. Once she was back in the driver’s seat, Waverly pulled out her phone and dialed the number on the collar. The owner picked up on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi! I think I have your cat? She’s orange and fluffy, and her collar says Calamity Jane?”

“Yes, yes, that’s my cat! Oh my God, thank you! Do you have her right now? Can I come pick her up?”

“I can drop her off, if you want. She’s in the car with me.”

By the time Waverly had hung up, Calamity Jane was asleep beside her, her tail curled up around her paws. Waverly couldn’t help reaching out to scratch behind her ears while she drove.

“We’re home, pretty lady,” she whispered when they’d reached the owner’s address. It took a few tries to lift the cat again. Calamity was clearly unhappy about being woken up; she wriggled and hissed in Waverly’s arms as she carried her to the front door. “I should have asked for a cash reward,” she muttered, struggling to free her hand and ring the bell.

As soon as the door opened, Calamity Jane leaped from Waverly’s grasp and raced inside. “Oh, no, she slipped out –” And then Waverly looked up, and the rest of her words died in her mouth.

Nicole Haught blinked down at her. “Ms. Earp?”


	4. Chapter 4

“Officer Haught,” Waverly stammered.

“You’re the one who found Calamity? Thank you so much!” Haught smiled her radiant smile; Waverly’s stomach lurched. “She’s not supposed to be outdoors, but sometimes she’ll jailbreak anyway. Eventually she realizes she hates it and comes crawling back, but I prefer to have her back home sooner rather than later.”

“She’s a good cat,” said Waverly. _“She’s a good cat?” What the heck does that even mean? Maybe I should think before I speak, for once in my entire life?_

“She’s okay.” Haught stepped aside, gesturing into her home. “I was just making tea. Can I get you a cup?”

“No, I should get going,” Waverly thought about saying, but she didn’t actually have anywhere to go, did she? Besides, she was kind of-sort of desperate to see what the inside of Officer Haught’s house was like. Perfect, probably. Before she knew it, she was nodding and following Haught into the kitchen.

Calamity Jane was already curled up on a window sill, fast asleep again. The curtains were drawn back, letting in a rush of sunlight. A hodgepodge of patterned pillows and blankets were thrown cozily over the couch in the living room. An electric teapot was boiling on the stove; Haught dropped tea bags into two mugs and poured in the hot water. She seemed comfortable with the silence, but Waverly’s brain was a scrambled mess of static. She couldn’t stop fidgeting, drawing her fingernails up and down the side of her jeans.

“You have a lovely home,” she blurted out. _What am I saying? Am I a middle-aged woman? Am I eighty years old? Why am I physically incapable of shutting up?_

“Thank you!” Nicole relaxed against the counter. She was wearing a loose yellow sweater and house slippers. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders in dark, shiny waves. For someone so big and strong, she looked surprisingly soft. It was disconcerting, even more so than the chance sighting at the diner. “To be honest, I only finished unpacking all my stuff a week ago.”

“How are you liking Purgatory so far?” Waverly asked. _Okay, that’s normal enough. Keep talking like that_.

“It’s great. I’m really enjoying work – the sheriff is so much more supportive than anyone else I’ve had to report to before. And most of the people in town have been welcoming.” She absently bobbed the tea bags in the mugs. “Actually, one of my favorite experiences here was at your bar. I’d barely been in Purgatory for a week when the sheriff took me to Shorty’s for the first time. I wasn’t sure about coming here at first, but that day, I decided I had no regrets.”

“Really?” Waverly wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Sure, Shorty’s offered a good enough time, but she couldn’t imagine how it could be that transformative.

“Really. I guess it reminded me of everything that drew me to Purgatory in the first place. I’ve lived in cities most of my life; I’ve never seen people interact with each other and with the police the way they do here. And, you know, I like how it’s this tiny, isolated town with such an intense history. I feel like I’m going to uncover some dramatic mystery at any second.”

“_Right!_” Waverly couldn’t stop herself from clapping in delight. “The history is amazing! Nineteenth century legal stuff is basically my favorite thing. I mean, I’m an ancestor of Wyatt Earp, so I’m obviously a little biased. But how could I not be? It’s all so wild and _weird_. Like, have you ever read anything about Doc Holliday? I mean, you’ve obviously heard of him, right?”

“He’s come up when people are talking about local lore, yeah. He was Wyatt Earp’s best friend, right?” Nicole grinned, lifting out the tea bags and tossing them into her compost bin. “My question is, were they partners in law, or just partners, period? Of course, that’s always my question.” She shrugged. “I have been told that I try too hard to make everything gay, but the way I see it, that’s everyone else’s problem, not mine.”

“Oh, um, I don’t know about that.” Waverly laughed a little, running a hand through her hair. Did this mean that Nicole Haught was gay? Or was she jumping to conclusions? It didn’t matter to her one way or another, obviously. “I haven’t found any proof that Doc and Wyatt were anything other than friends, but then again, I haven’t found any proof that they _weren’t_ something more either.”

“Amazing, just what I like to hear. So are you a local historian? Or is the research just a hobby?”

“Mostly a hobby. I help out at the historical center sometimes, organizing the archives, but my reading is really just for me.” Waverly accepted her mug of tea from Haught with a nod of thanks. “It’s like you were saying – I like the feeling that I’m on the verge of some big, dramatic discovery! You’re right, the history is basically the best part of Shorty’s.”

“I didn’t say it was the best part,” Nicole protested, “The best part was the cute girls. Well, one cute girl, at least.” She smiled at Waverly over the rim of her mug. Waverly smiled back, even though she was sure her flustered confusion was plastered all over her face. Was Nicole talking about…her? Was she a cute girl? Whatever the case, now she was pretty sure that Nicole Haught was gay. It was an interesting new fact about an interesting new maybe-friend. A very interesting fact. Or – not _very_ interesting, moderately interesting. A normal, average level of interesting. It was a fact she found as interesting as anyone would find any fact about anyone interesting.

She was losing it. Waverly scrambled to collect her thoughts and bring them back into order.

“This tea is really good,” she said, taking a huge gulp and pretending she hadn’t just burned her tongue. _Okay, so I’m back to saying useless nonsense words. Excellent_. “I love tea. But my boyfriend hates it. I mean, but he hates water, so who cares what he thinks, right? What sort of person thinks _water_ tastes bad?”

_What? What? What the hell am I doing?_

This was worse than spouting nonsense. She had mentioned Champ on instinct, the way she casually dropped his name whenever a customer at Shorty’s started hitting on her. But Nicole wasn’t some drunk guy at the bar. She was – Waverly still wasn’t sure exactly what she was. What she did know was that she wanted to impress her. For whatever reason, she wanted Nicole Haught to think she was fun and cool, and Champ was far from the best way to get that impression across.

Fortunately, Nicole didn’t seem particularly phased. She lifted her eyebrows, but all she said was, “Is he one of those guys who subsists entirely on energy drinks?”

“Yeah, basically.”

They sipped their tea in silence for a while. Waverly watched Calamity Jane in the next room, to avoid meeting Nicole’s eye. The cat had shifted from the window sill to the floor, and was now stretched luxuriously in a patch of sunlight on the carpet.

“I would love to check out the local archives sometime,” Nicole finally said, “Do you think you could be my guide?”

“That would be great!” Waverly meant it. She could imagine taking Nicole through her beloved books and documents, pointing out her favorite photographs and reciting the wildest anecdotes she’d uncovered. She pictured Nicole listening and questioning, watching her with – well, watching with the same rapt, delighted attention she was paying her right now. Waverly couldn’t remember the last time anyone had looked at her like that.

She was suddenly light-headed. No one had ever looked at her like that. The way her life was heading right now, it was unlikely that anyone else would ever look at her like that again.

There was something she had to do, right away.

“I need to go now,” she said, setting down her mug, “Thanks for the tea, though.”

“It was my pleasure, Ms. Earp.” There was the smile, lighting Nicole’s eyes with a soft glow. She was so pretty it almost hurt. Waverly didn’t think; she reached out and, for one second, rested her hand on Nicole’s arm.

“Call me Waverly.”

She couldn’t wait until she got back home. She stopped the car on the side of the road and pulled out her phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Champ, it’s Waverly. I think we need to break up.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're about halfway through the story now; thanks to everyone who's been reading since the beginning and everyone who's just checking it out!

“So you finally got rid of the redneck frat boy. Congratulations.”

“It was a long time coming,” Waverly admitted. She offered Wynonna a pickle from the jar; Wynonna slid it off the fork and popped it into her mouth. They were eating what they referred to as “deconstructed sandwiches” – basically just an array of sandwich ingredients that they ate one by one. As Wynonna said, “It’s all going to end up in the same place anyway.”

“What was the final straw?” Wynonna asked, peeling the plastic off a slice of yellow cheese.

Waverly hesitated, trying to figure out how much she wanted to say. “I guess I realized that...we never talked. There was nothing to talk about. I didn’t care about anything Champ wanted to say, and Champ didn’t care about anything I was interested in. He never listened. Never even tried. I – I stopped feeling like myself around him.”

She was getting too close to the heart of the matter. She quickly folded a piece of white bread into her mouth and busied herself with chewing.

“I’m happy for you, Waves. Seriously. Getting rid of Champ Hardy is a good first step.”

Waverly had gravely overestimated her bread-eating abilities. She struggled to swallow; she had to take a long swig of milk from the carton before she could speak. “A good first step towards – what?”

“Oh, you know.” Wynonna shrugged. “Getting out of here. Finally making your daring escape.” She shook the mustard bottle and squeezed a thin line on to one finger. “Hey, you dare me to eat a whole spoon of this? It seems only right, if I want to get the full sandwich experience.”

“I don’t want to leave, though.” Waverly’s voice came out louder and colder than she had expected. Part of her wanted to keep holding back; another part of her wanted to let loose on her sister and the world.

“You only think that because you’ve never left before, but –”

“No. Stop. You keep doing this.” Now breathe, Waverly. It’s no good exploding at her, Waverly. Be calm, be reasonable. “Yes, it’s a good thing I broke up with Champ. We were bad together, and he just generally wasn’t a good person. But I’m not stupid, Wynonna. I had real reasons for agreeing to date him in the first place. I had real reasons for continuing to date him until now.”

Wynonna nodded knowingly. “You were using him for his body.”

“_No!_ Why don’t you ever take me _seriously?_” The words were all there, on the tip of Waverly’s tongue: “Champ was a constant, predictable and unchanging. I needed that. I still need that, now more than ever. I have worked so hard to keep my life steady, especially after you left. Champ was a part of that effort.” How could she say that to her sister without making it sound like she blamed her? _But I do blame her_, she thought, and she was immediately so guilty and angry that she couldn’t stand it any longer. These weren’t Waverly Earp feelings. Maybe she wasn’t Waverly Earp anymore.

“I’m going out,” she snapped.

“Waverly –”

“I’m _fine_. I just – I need some fresh air.”

Once she was out of the house, she felt a little better. And then a little worse. After a moment of hesitation, she pulled out her phone and typed out a message:

_hi! just wanted to check in and make sure calamity jane is doing ok!_

She sent the text before she could think about it for too long. This wasn’t a weird way to reach out to Nicole, was it? This was a _nice_ way to reach out. Besides, she did genuinely want to know how Calamity was doing. Of course, there was the fact that she’d gotten Nicole’s number off her cat’s collar. Was _that_ weird? She pulled out her phone again for an emergency follow-up:

_this is waverly earp btw_

Four seconds passed. Then thirty seconds. Then what felt like five minutes, or an hour, or a million years. No response. Maybe it _was_ weird to text Nicole Haught. Maybe Nicole didn’t remember who she was, or _did_ remember but thought she was annoying, or she had thought Waverly was friendly until she got her texts, and now she hated her guts and wanted her dead –

This was ridiculous. Waverly was out of the house but she couldn’t get out of her own damn head.

Where was she going to go, anyway? She ran through a list of all her friends, but none of them clicked. Not Stephanie, not Perry, not Lydia or Priya or Michael. The truth was that it had been a while since she’d hung out with any of them. She’d been too busy with Wynonna’s return to reach out, and it wasn’t until now that she realized none of them had reached out to her either. There was Robin, but he was pretty occupied with his father. Or maybe she could hunt down Chrissy, who had actually stopped to talk with Waverly the few times they’d seen each other in town.

Two people. She’d lived in Purgatory her whole life, but when she really needed someone, she could only think of two people to turn to.

She was walking fast, even though she wasn’t heading anywhere specific. Her heart was pounding in her chest; she could feel the world around her tilting, slipping out from under her feet. She was worrying about Nicole, and she was annoyed that she was worrying about Nicole, and she was thinking about her friends, or lack thereof. There had been a time when Waverly had never had to scramble for friends. Now, she was repelled by the very thought of hanging out with her high school buddies again. She knew exactly what it would be like, trying to explain her new feelings, the new conflicts in her life – they would stare at her, blink, laugh awkwardly, ignore her. They weren’t the right people for her anymore. When had that happened? What was going on with her?

Maybe she shouldn’t have broken up with Champ. He’d been one of the last threads holding her to the plan she’d had for her life since she was a kid. Now that she’d cut him off, she was drifting, loose and confused and heading for some terrifying, unknowable future.

The land stretched in every direction, flat and serene, dotted with dark copses of evergreen trees. Clouds scudded across the soft gray-blue sky, and tall yellow grass shifted gently in the whistling, whispering wind. A scattering of geese honked and cackled as they flew by, forming a shaky V overhead. Otherwise, it was quiet, so quiet. Waverly’s footsteps on the cracked tarmac disappeared into the horizon; eventually, the cacophony in her head followed, leaving behind a rare clarity.

She’d made the right choice about Champ. She deserved better than him. She deserved someone who cared, and listened. She stopped by a fence and stared out at the mountains, a ragged half-shrouded line in the distance.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. It was Nicole.

_Hey! Calamity is great, thanks for asking!_

_I had to give her a bath though and she HATES that_

Waverly smiled at the picture of the sodden, pitiful Calamity Jane, and then she sighed.

“I don’t want to leave,” she said, to no one in particular. Her voice was quiet and thin and readily whipped away by the breeze. She might have been the only person in Purgatory, alone under the vast expanse of sky. She might have been the only person in the world.


	6. Chapter 6

It was raining, a steady, pattering downpour that had turned all the sunlight gray. Unsurprisingly, the bar was emptier than usual. A handful of soggy regulars were scattered over the booths and tables, murmuring under the heavy beat of raindrops on the roof. There wasn’t much for Waverly to do; she sat on her stool behind the counter, scrolling through her phone, with only half an eye on the customers. She was pretending that she was just trying to pass the time, but the truth was that she was waiting. When the next text came, she tried not to get too excited, and failed miserably.

_You’re at Shorty’s now right?_

_yes! why, what’s up?_

The bar door rushed open. Waverly took her time rising from her seat, still hoping for a response; it was a moment before she realized. “Hi, what can I get for – Nicole!”

“Hi, Waverly.” Nicole grinned sheepishly, brushing away the droplets of rain that trickled off her hair and chin. She was out of uniform and she was soaked through, her clothes almost black with water. Waverly noticed the way her shirt clung to her body, the raindrops sliding from her throat, between her open top buttons – then she noticed herself noticing and quickly trained her gaze on Nicole’s face. They had been texting back and forth ever since the incident with Calamity Jane. There was always news to share about the cat, but they had also started telling jokes, asking questions, exchanging tips and stories about living in Purgatory. It was all pretty trivial stuff, but if she was being completely honest with herself, Waverly had to admit that those messages were the best part of her day. She’d started to feel like she really knew Nicole, like they had known each other for years; seeing her in the flesh made Waverly remember how new their friendship really was, and how attractive Nicole had always been.

“You need a towel!” Waverly blurted out, hoping to distract herself from the inexplicably unwholesome thoughts lurking at the corners of her mind, “There are some clean dishcloths in the backroom, I’ll go get them for you.”

“I don’t think a dishcloth is going to help much,” Nicole said ruefully, “I was just going to go to the bathroom and wring myself out. And maybe get a hot coffee?”

“I’ll get you that coffee, but you don’t need to stay wet. I keep an extra outfit in my bag for emergencies – you can borrow it if you want.”

“I’m not sure if any of your clothes will fit me,” Nicole pointed out, but she still followed Waverly to the backroom.

Nicole was right, of course – the dress Waverly had stuffed into the bottom of her backpack was way too small for her. Fortunately, the backroom also stored a box of Shorty’s T-shirts, from last year’s ill-fated attempt at merchandising. Waverly grabbed one and handed it over.

“Sorry I don’t have any pants, but this might help.” They stood staring at each other for a long moment, Nicole twisting the dry T-shirt between her hands, before Waverly suddenly realized. “Oh, right! Um, I’ll get out of here? Come let me know if it fits okay, and I’ll have your coffee ready.”

“You can stick around if you want,” Nicole said, too innocently, “I don’t mind.”

Waverly’s brain short-circuited. For one wild second, she imagined Nicole peeling off her shirt, her smooth white stomach and broad bare shoulders –

“I’ll be right outside if you need me,” she stammered. Her voice was too high. She might have been the lost fourth member of Alvin and the Chipmunks. Before she returned to her spot behind the bar, she made a detour to the bathroom and splashed her face with cold water. _Why am I so nervous? _

She knew why. Even if she didn’t want to acknowledge it, she knew.

When Nicole came out of the backroom, Waverly was diligently, furiously wiping down the counter. She could barely bring herself to look up; she was sure her cheeks would start burning. She pushed over the steaming cup of coffee.

“Here you go. Sugar and cream, the way you like it, right?”

“You remember my order?”

Now her cheeks were definitely burning. “I – I have a good memory,” Waverly said stupidly. _Time for a topic change_. “So why’d you come by here, anyway? You’re not on duty, are you? Did you really come out in the rain just for coffee?”

“Not exactly. I…actually came here to see you.”

Waverly looked up, frozen halfway through wiping. Nicole was watching her with sweet, gentle eyes, warm enough to melt the rainstorm chill from Waverly’s chest. “What do you mean?” she asked, even though she was pretty sure she already knew what the answer was going to be.

“I don’t want to overstep,” Nicole began, with uncharacteristic hesitancy, “I know you have a boyfriend –”

“I don’t,” Waverly heard herself say. It was as though she was in a dream, watching herself do things beyond her control. “I mean, I don’t have a boyfriend anymore. We broke up.”

Nicole brightened. “Oh! Well, that makes this a lot easier.” She leaned over the counter, bending slightly so that she was meeting Waverly’s gaze. That smile. It was dazzling, and Waverly was a deer caught in headlights. “I was wondering if you’d want to get a drink with me sometime. Not at Shorty’s – somewhere else, where you don’t work.”

Waverly’s heart was pounding so loud she could barely hear herself think. “Like…a date?”

“Yeah, like a date. Don’t feel any pressure to say yes, I just thought – well, I’ve really liked talking to you for the past week, and it seems like you’re having a good time too…”

_I can’t. I just broke up with my boyfriend. You’re sweet and funny and really hot, but I just don’t like girls that way. I’m sorry_.

She knew what she was supposed to say. Now speak, Waverly Earp.

“Yes,” said Waverly, “Yes, I’d like that a lot.”

A huge goofy grin spread across Nicole’s face. She was a small sun, burning bright and beautiful in the middle of the rain-clouded room.

“Really? I mean, okay! That’s great! Are you free on Friday? I can pick you up after work.”

“Sure. Is seven good?”

Waverly forgot where she was, what she was supposed to be doing, who she was supposed to be. They chattered and giggled as Nicole finished her coffee. The rain stormed outside the bar; inside, Waverly was caught in the light of the nicest, prettiest woman she had ever met.

“I should get going,” Nicole finally said, glancing up at the clock hanging on the wall, “I need to give Calamity her medicine. But we’re still on for Friday, right?”

“Definitely.” Waverly leaned over the counter to watch Nicole walk to the front door. She turned before she left and waved a little; it was such a silly, cute gesture that Waverly had to wave back.

She was floating on a cloud, her stomach fluttering, her head buzzing. She couldn’t stop smiling. She found herself humming middle school love songs while she cleared tables. Nicole Haught. Officer Nicole Haught. Nicole, who looked her in the eye when she spoke, who watched her like she was the most interesting and important person on the planet. Nicole, Nicole, Nicole Haught.

There was only one moment where she faltered. She was in the car, driving home, and she saw Stephanie Jones hurrying down the sidewalk, her umbrella open against the rain. They had been friends in high school, and Waverly had heard that Stephanie had just gotten engaged. For a second she thought about pulling over, offering her a ride, congratulating her on her new fiancé, and telling her…

Telling her…

Waverly could not imagine telling Stephanie that she had a date with Nicole Haught. How would she explain herself? How would Stephanie respond? She felt herself dropping, slipping from her cloud and back to earth – but she pulled herself back just in time. _Forget about Stephanie. She’s never wanted to talk anyway_. Stephanie didn’t matter. Her engagement didn’t matter. At that moment, nothing mattered as much as this _feeling_. It had been forever since Waverly had felt like this – light and happy and _free_. She wouldn’t let herself be too bothered, because for the first time in a long time, she felt like Waverly Earp, and it wasn’t a burden at all.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're doing something a little different this time. Hope you guys enjoy!

Waverly Earp was twelve years old and meeting Chrissy Nedley for the first time. They were seated next to each other in seventh grade homeroom. Waverly had boldly cut her own hair before the first day of school, and she was now trying to hide the disastrous bob with a hat she’d stolen from Aunt Gus. Chrissy had her hair pulled back in a sleek brown ponytail, and her teeth glinted with pink and yellow metal.

“Hi, I’m Chrissy. I like your hat. It’s like, retro-cool.”

“Thanks! I’m Waverly. I like your braces. I didn’t know you could get them in different colors!”

They became friends, fast and hard. Chrissy was the only person Waverly wanted to be with, all the time. They passed each other notes in class, called each other at night, went over to each other’s houses on the weekends. At sleepovers, Waverly insisted on combing Chrissy’s hair. She would painstakingly braid it, then undo her work, then braid it again, over and over.

When Chrissy got her first boyfriend, Waverly came home and cried into her pillow. _I’m jealous she got a boyfriend first,_ she told herself, _and I wish it had been me instead. I wish it had been me. I wish it had been me._ She carefully ignored the fact that Stephanie had actually been the first person in their friend group to date someone, not Chrissy, and she hadn’t cared at all when she heard the news.

*

Waverly Earp was fourteen years old, and Mercedes Gardener stopped her on the street to ask about Wynonna. “I haven’t heard from her in a year. You don’t have any idea where she is, do you?”

“She calls sometimes,” Waverly explained, “but never from the same place twice.” Mercedes had a leather purse slung over one arm and a lit cigarette dangling between her fingers. Her lips were painted bright red, and her dress was short and black. Waverly couldn’t stop staring. _I wish I had the courage to act like that_, she told herself. _I'm nervous because she's so cool._

“Classic Wynonna,” Mercedes scoffed. She drew on her cigarette and blew a thin line of smoke. “Well, next time you hear from her, tell her I said hi.” She reached down and ruffled Waverly’s hair, and for the rest of the day Waverly was dizzy, reaching up to touch her own head. Later, she stood in front of the bathroom mirror and imagined herself as a lady with a leather purse and a lit cigarette. _Mercedes has such great style_, she told herself. _I want to be like her someday._

*

Waverly Earp was eighteen years old and drinking in Lydia Hudson’s basement. Pretty much everyone had left but Lydia, Waverly, and Scott Wu, who was passed out on the sofa. Lydia and Waverly were lying on the floor, side by side.

“I can’t believe I’m going to be a college student in like a week,” Lydia sighed, “It doesn’t feel real, you know?”

Waverly nodded, even though she didn’t really know. Lydia turned to her, curling up on her side. Her eyes were hazy and warm.

“I’m really going to miss you, Waves.”

“I’m going to miss you too,” Waverly whispered. She wasn’t sure why she was whispering, except that she had suddenly realized how close their faces were. And then Lydia started to lean even closer, her breath hot and winey, her cheeks pink. Waverly shut her eyes and waited.

She felt Lydia’s fingers against her jaw. “You have something on your head,” Lydia said, pulling a puff of cotton out of her hair. Waverly blinked.

“Oh. Thanks.”

Lydia sat up and stretched. “I’m gonna get a glass of water. You want some?”

While she ventured up the stairs, Waverly stayed on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. _Everyone thinks about experimenting sometimes,_ she told herself, _but it doesn’t mean anything. I don’t like Lydia. I like my boyfriend._

*

Waverly Earp was twenty-one years old, and she agreed to go on a date with Nicole Haught. She had a crush, and her crush had asked her out, and she was thrilled. Also, her crush was a woman, like so many crushes before. It wasn’t jealousy, or admiration, or experimentation. It was attraction. Maybe even love. At the very least like. Waverly was deeply in like with another woman.

She wasn’t stupid; she had always had an inkling in the back of her mind, a suspicion that there was some part of her she wasn’t letting herself see. She couldn’t ignore it anymore: she wanted a beautiful policewoman with legs for days to touch her, kiss her, carry her into the bedroom and throw her down on the blankets and – But that was a little much for now. She was so new to the whole _accepting-I-don’t-just-like-boys_ thing; sex felt like a faraway, unbelievable fantasy. More than that, what she really wanted was to sit at a diner with Nicole, talking, laughing, holding hands. She imagined holding hands with Nicole Haught, and she was flushed and giddy, and she knew: this was real.

It was as though she had been living in this house all her life, and she’d only just discovered an entire room she hadn’t been sure existed, and now, finally, the layout was making sense. Finally, she could shift her focus from searching to _living_. Exploration was weird and hard, but it was worth it for the moment of revelation. She just had to keep reminding herself of that.


	8. Chapter 8

Waverly could not stay still. She tried to take a sip from her drink, but her hands were so fidgety that she ended up sloshing alcohol on to her lap. 

“Here, let me help.” Nicole grabbed a handful of napkins and started to reach for her, but Waverly quickly shifted away. 

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I’ve got it.” 

She dabbed diligently at the stain on her jeans, praying that she wasn’t blushing. She was pretty sure that if Nicole touched her thigh, she’d straight-up explode. 

They were in a bar a little way out of town. Waverly was sipping a cocktail – whatever part of it she wasn’t spilling, anyway. She wasn’t usually a fan of mixed drinks, but it had seemed like the right thing to order on a first date. Maybe she was wrong, though. Probably she was wrong. The truth was that she hadn’t gone on a real date since high school. She’d been with Champ for her entire adult life; she wasn’t sure she even remembered how to go out with other people. 

“I read up a little about Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday,” Nicole said once Waverly had crumpled up the last napkin, “You’re right, the things they got up to were crazy. And you’re really related to Wyatt?” 

“He’s my great-great-grandfather! He’s how I got into history, actually. There was one summer in high school when I became obsessed with documenting my family’s genealogy, and that led me to a whole treasure trove of Wyatt Earp information, and then I fell down a rabbit hole of Wild West tales… Long story short, now I have a correspondence degree in nineteenth century history and a cowboy shrine in my bedroom. That’s what Wynonna calls it, anyway, it’s actually just a collection of my favorite primary documents that I keep on my bookshelf.” She paused to catch her breath. “Sorry, that was a lot about me.” 

“Don’t be sorry! I wish I had anything that interesting to say about my family. My parents had a hippie phase when I was a kid and they dragged me around to a lot of music festivals, but that’s about it.” Nicole rested her cheek in her hand, tilting her head like a curious puppy. “I kind of want to see that cowboy shrine of yours. I’ve never heard of anyone doing something like that before.” 

“Are you trying to get me to invite you to my bedroom?” 

“Am I that obvious?” Nicole laughed. For the first time in a long time, Waverly was actually flirting with someone, and judging by the look on Nicole’s face, whatever she was doing was working. It was exciting to think that Waverly could have as much of an effect on Nicole as Nicole did on her. A little overwhelming, too. She decided to change the subject, at least for the time being. 

“So what do you do when you’re not being an officer?” 

“To be honest, I haven’t had much free time since I moved to Purgatory. There’s catching up to do at work and unpacking to do at home and general settling in… But I’ve been trying to set up a garden. I like gardening, and I’m good at it – that’s one gift my parents gave me that I kept. When I was still in training, I used to volunteer at a local cat shelter, but I haven’t seen anything like that in Purgatory.” She grinned ruefully. “Cats and gardens – I sound like someone’s grandmother, don’t I? I mean, I also like to rock climb. I used to travel all over North America to try out the best routes.” 

_ A rock climber, huh? _That explained Nicole’s incredible arms. “Cats and gardens sound nice. I don’t have either, but I’ve always wanted kittens.” 

“Have you ever tried to adopt?” 

“…actually, no.” It was the first time anyone had asked Waverly that question, because it was the first time she’d ever admitted to having cat owner fantasies. She didn’t feel the need to be on guard around Nicole, and that meant that parts of her she’d been diligently hiding from public view were finally creeping into the light. It was like forcing her way from the bottom of a swimming pool and taking her first breath of clean, fresh air. It was also like standing on the precipice of a cliff, waiting to see if she would fall. She kept telling herself to be careful, but it felt so good that she couldn’t help moving closer and closer to the edge. “I – I guess I’m a little nervous about having to take care of another living thing. I don’t know if I’m…if I can… I mean, you don’t know how many houseplants I’ve accidentally killed. I once killed a _cactus_. I didn’t even know you _could _kill a cactus. It’s too much responsibility! I don’t want to mess up and ruin an innocent cat’s life forever!” 

“Take it from me, someone with many plants and a cat under her care – there’s a pretty big difference between a cactus and a kitten.” 

“If you say so.” 

There was a pause while they both sipped on their drinks. Waverly’s cocktail was starting to taste too sweet, but she didn’t care. It was going well. At the very least, it wasn’t going terribly. She was actually capable of being on a date! 

She was almost delirious with relief and excitement. There were no inhibitions now; this was Nicole Haught, and she could be_ herself _around her. She didn’t have to keep trying anymore, she could just _be_. “I hope you don’t mind me asking,” she began, “Why did you come to Purgatory? We don’t get a lot of new residents, so I’m always curious about anyone who does settle here.” 

“Nedley recruited me. I had a few other offers, but most of them were too close to the city. I’d finally finished training, my ex-wife and I had just split up, and I was ready for a big change. I’ve never lived in a town as small as Purgatory before; it seemed like it could be the fresh start I needed.” 

“Oh. Huh.”_ Ex-wife? Ex-wife. She was married, and she had a wife._ Waverly tried not to look too preoccupied with what Nicole had just said, but she must have done a bad job, because Nicole quickly added, “My ex and I have been separated for a few years now, even though we were only able to finalize the divorce papers about a month ago. You might have seen her, actually, that day at the diner?” 

Waverly remembered – Nicole and her unfamiliar companion, talking and laughing, the way their hands were placed on the table. She nodded, still trying to figure out what to say. 

Nicole’s smile faltered. “I know this is kind of a lot for a first date. I just didn’t want it to seem like I was hiding something from you.” 

“Oh, no, it’s totally fine! Thanks for telling me.” It _was _fine. Waverly didn’t mind that Nicole had been divorced. What had thrown her off was the reminder of how the two of them compared. Nicole had had a wife. Waverly had never even had a girlfriend. _Oh God, __I’__m a baby. A __gay baby. A bisexual baby? _ Either way, she was acutely aware all over again of how new she was to this, and how likely she was to trip up without even realizing it. 

Right on cue, in the middle of her minor crisis, Waverly heard someone calling her name. She started; it was Chrissy Nedley, moving across the bar towards her. 

“Waverly, hi! I haven’t seen you in forever! How have you _been? _” 

“Hi, Chrissy.” Waverly accepted her hug. Her heart was suddenly pounding. “I’m doing great.” 

“And Wynonna? I’ve seen her around a few times, but we haven’t really had a chance to talk or anything.” 

“Oh, you know, she’s…Wynonna!” 

“What are you up to now?” Chrissy glanced around, her gaze sliding right over Nicole. “Are you meeting someone?” 

“Um, I’m actually here with – with Officer Haught.” Nicole nodded and smiled at Chrissy, who blinked, but quickly beamed back. 

“It’s nice to meet you.” Her attention was suddenly drawn to the other side of the room; she lifted her hand to wave. “My guy is here. Hey, we should catch up some time, okay? Text me, and we can make a lunch date or something.” 

“Definitely.” Waverly was not going to text her. Her stomach was in knots. Even after Chrissy was gone, she couldn’t get herself to calm down. Her panic was ridiculous, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t real. She hated herself for it. She’d been doing so well. What had happened? 

_ Purgatory happened. __What else did I expect? _

The rest of the date was strange and disjointed. Nicole asked her questions, and she tried to answer, but she could barely come up with more than one sentence at a time. Nicole’s voice grew gentle and concerned, and Waverly didn’t know how to tell her: _it’s not you, it’s all me! _ It was only after the date was over that she realized. She’d been performing again – not for Nicole, who didn’t need a performance, but for Chrissy, even after she had left. Be polite to your date, Waverly, but not too forward. Be friendly, but not like _that. _ What are they going to think of you now, Waverly Earp? 

It shouldn’t have mattered to her, but it did. No matter how pathetic and frustrated it made her feel, she _ cared _ what Purgatory expected of her. She knew what people said and thought about her family. It was different for Wynonna, who hated the town anyway and couldn’t wait to be rid of it. But Waverly loved it here. She wanted to stay, and because of that, she wanted to be accepted and to belong. 

Why was she always trying to find people to appease? Her boyfriend, her sister, her friends, her community. Why couldn’t _she _be the only person who mattered for once? 

She couldn’t go to sleep that night. Her thoughts were fractured and confused: Nicole and her ex-wife at the diner. Chrissy’s pause when she saw Nicole at the bar. The imaginary kittens, Shadow and Winter, who would never be real. The imaginary ending this date could have had, Nicole holding her hand at the doorstep, leaning down for a kiss. If only she hadn’t ruined everything. If only it didn’t _matter _. 


	9. Chapter 9

There was a knock on the bedroom door. Waverly tried to ignore it at first, drawing her quilt close and burying her chin in a mound of pillows, but then it came again, loud and persistent.

“Waves, open up. It’s me.”

Reluctantly, Waverly forced herself up and shuffled over to unlock the door. Wynonna followed her in, plopping down on the bed beside her.

“What are you up to?” she asked, peering at the array of books and photos spread across the sheets. Waverly waited a moment before she answered.

“I’m thinking about writing a paper. I was just doing some background research.”

That was a lie. She had been flipping through her favorite books and staring at her beloved photographs because they soothed her. When she got really into reading history, she started to feel like she had one foot in another world, with its own people and rules and language and expectations. She needed to be in another world right now.

“Oh. Cool.” Wynonna picked up a photograph of a sharpshooting exhibition and looked it over idly. “Why didn’t you ever go to college? You could have taken actual classes about this stuff.”

“I did take classes. I have a degree, Wynonna.”

“I know that, but you could have gotten it _at_ a college, you know? Surrounded by like-minded nerds. You probably could have gotten into a proper university – you’re smart enough.”

“I didn’t want to leave Aunt Gus,” Waverly snapped. She was done covering up her irritation with her sister. “Especially after Uncle Curtis died. She was the only family I had left.”

Wynonna dropped the photograph. Waverly didn’t have to look at her to know she was taken aback. After a long, strained silence, Wynonna finally spoke. “What’s going on with you, Waves?”

“Nothing!” Waverly pulled her quilt so close that it almost obscured her face. “I’m _fine._”

“No, you’re not. You’ve barely left your room all weekend. Did something happen? Do I need to murder someone for you?”

“_No_. Just…leave me alone.” Waverly fell over on the bed, wrapped in her cocoon of blankets. “Let me wallow in peace.”

“I can’t do that, baby girl. That’s not the older sister way.”

“It’s been years since you’ve been a real older sister, Wynonna. You don’t have to start now.” She said the words before she had time to think about or regret them. She was sick of pretending. She had to get it out of her system – all the weariness and frustration and resentment – before it ate her up from the inside out.

She expected Wynonna to be upset, but she unprepared for how angry she sounded. “Oh, for God’s sake – I wasn’t trying to abandon you, Waverly! You have no idea how – you don’t know what it was _like_. You don’t remember what it was like between Mom and Dad, and you don’t remember how much worse it got when it was just Dad, and I’m _glad_ you don’t. You were too young to get fucked up by them, but I wasn’t. I – I thought – I was so _young_, Waves. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing half the time, I was just trying to survive. I knew I’d be better off if I could leave Purgatory behind me, and I thought you would be better off too. You had Aunt Gus and Uncle Curtis, real adults who could actually take care of you. I wasn’t like them – I didn’t have anything to give you, especially not when I was still a stupid fucking _kid._” She paused to catch her breath. When she spoke again, her voice was softer, sadder. “I wasn’t trying to abandon you. I didn’t want to leave you. I just…wanted to feel _okay_, for once in my life.”

Waverly was shaking. Her eyes prickled, but she willed herself not to cry. After taking a few deep breaths, she pushed back her quilt and blankets and turned to face her sister. “I get why you had to leave. And – and I don’t really blame you. I feel like I do sometimes, but that doesn’t – I mean, I still understand. But it was kind of hard, you know? Being the only Earp in town, all of that baggage hanging over my head, without anyone around to help me. And even more than all that…I _missed_ you.” Her voice broke, and she quickly cleared her throat.

Wynonna leaned over and hugged her, resting her chin on the top of Waverly’s head. “I know. I missed you too. More than I can ever describe.” They sat like that for a while, warm and close, until Wynonna finally pulled back. “So is that what you’ve been upset about all weekend? Me leaving and coming back?”

“What? No, I was just – there was –” Where could she begin? Did she even want to explain? It was finally easy to breathe around Wynonna again; Waverly felt more at home in her skin than she had since her sister had first shown up in Purgatory. She decided to try. “Um, I went on a date on Friday.”

“Seriously? Good for you, getting back out there!” The smile suddenly dropped from Wynonna’s face. “Wait, so this is about a guy? Did you go out with an asshole? I _knew_ I had to murder someone.”

“It’s not about a guy.” Waverly swallowed, staring down at the pillows in her lap. “It’s about a…a girl.”

“Does he have a girlfriend already? Is he _married?_ No judgment, Waverly, but take it from someone with first-hand experience – affairs are only fun for, like, a week.”

“Oh my God.” Waverly couldn’t help it – she was so nervous and strung out that she started laughing. “Wynonna, listen to me. The date wasn’t with a guy. The date was with a girl. I went out with another woman.”

“Oh. _Oh._” Wynonna’s expression flickered from confusion to surprise to affection. “That’s great, Waverly. Really. I’m happy for you.” She hesitated. “Was it someone I know?”

“Actually, yeah. Do you remember Nicole Haught?”

“Nicole – wait, do you mean _Officer_ Haught? Nedley’s little pet? The one who’s _arrested _me _twice?_” Wynonna threw up her arms in dismay. “Waverly! Why!”

“She’s arrested you _two_ times? I thought it was just for the knife-throwing thing –”

“Forget I said anything, it’s not important.” Wynonna sighed and flopped down on the bed; Waverly hurriedly moved some loose papers out of the way. “I’m still happy for you. Did the date go well?”

“No,” Waverly groaned, dragging her quilt back over her head, “I mean, it was okay at first, but then Chrissy Nedley showed up and I just – panicked! All I could think about for the rest of the night was Chrissy at the other side of the bar, and what she was thinking, and what she was going to ask me later, and what I would tell her, and what she was going to tell everyone else… And I ruined it, I know I did. Nicole hated hanging out with me, and I’m never going to get to go out with her again, and I can’t stand it!”

Wynonna sat up and patted Waverly on the back. “You really like her, huh?”

Waverly nodded miserably.

“This is what I was worried about,” Wynonna said, “This is why I want you to get out of Purgatory while you still can –”

“Stop it!” Waverly shook Wynonna off. “Why won’t you believe me when I say I _like_ it here? This is my _home_, Wynonna. I like being close to Aunt Gus, and even though it’s hard sometimes, I like that everyone knows me. I don’t want to be a stranger in a crowd, I want to be _known_. I like the history, and I like that I’m so connected to the history, and I like the woods and the fields, I like how quiet it is, and how beautiful it is, I like being able to see the mountains and the sky… It’s not perfect, but it’s mine, and I want to stay.”

“Okay,” Wynonna said, after a pause, “Okay, I understand. You don’t have to leave, Waves. The reason I keep asking you to – it’s not because I want you to hate Purgatory. I’m actually kind of glad that you like it here as much as you do, because that means you didn’t have _nearly_ as messed-up a childhood as I did.” She coughed, a little awkward, before she steeled her resolve and barreled on. “The thing is…I don’t want living in a small town to keep you small. I know how easy it is to get dragged down by what people think of you when you live here. If you want to stay, you should stay, but you have to be in charge of that decision. Yeah, Purgatory is yours, it belongs to you as much as it does to any of the assholes who live here, but you can’t let Purgatory own you. You’re so much more than other people’s expectations for you, Waverly Earp, and I don’t want you to _ever_ forget that.”

They were quiet for a long time. Gus was clattering pans in the kitchen. Outside, a bird had started to sing.

“Fuck,” Wynonna muttered, “I’m not good at this kind of thing, am I?”

“No, you were actually…really helpful,” Waverly finally said. Her voice sounded like the voice of a stranger. “I needed to hear that.” She sighed. “I have to talk to her, don’t I?”

“I mean, if you want to be _responsible_ about it. It’s not really my style, but I bet it would look good on you.”

Waverly smiled at her sister. “Thanks, Wynonna. And – I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Wynonna threw her arm around Waverly’s shoulder and shook her playfully. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, baby girl. You’re doing just fine.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Penultimate chapter! Next week we've got an extended epilogue, and then we've reached the end of our journey.

“Thank you for meeting me here.”

“Thank you for inviting me.” Nicole peered around the dusty room, squinting through the flickering orange light. “So this is your favorite place in Purgatory, huh?”

“I mean…more or less.” Waverly laughed, a little nervously. She was starting to wonder if the archive in the historical center’s basement _wasn’t_ the best place to have a Deep Conversation after all. Well, it was too late to change her mind now. At least it was private. “I know it’s not much to look at, but it’s full of weird details and random facts about Purgatory’s history.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the last project you worked on down here?”

“I was organizing and labeling documents related to the 1902 town census.” She saw the look on Nicole’s face. “Okay, so not _everything_ is wildly interesting. But it’s all important information, really!”

“Hey, I believe you! You’re the one getting defensive.”

Waverly was trying to keep it cool, but she couldn’t stop staring. Nicole had cut off most of her beautiful long hair. Now she had beautiful short hair. She looked so casually glamorous in her jeans and faded button-down. Half of Waverly’s feelings about the new look were painfully innocent – _oh, she’s pretty; I want to hold her hand_. The other half of Waverly’s feelings were decidedly _not_ innocent, and when she caught Nicole’s eye, she was immediately flush with embarrassed, excited confusion.

“Um, I really like your haircut,” she blurted out. Before she could register what she was doing, she was already reaching out, running her fingers through Nicole’s hair. Nicole let her. She smelled like fresh linen and cookies. Waverly’s heart was beating in her throat; her stomach was bright with butterflies. “It suits you,” she said, quieter this time.

Nicole grasped her hand between her own. She was gentle and warm. “Waverly…there’s something I wanted to ask you about.”

Waverly’s heart dropped. She turned away, too abruptly, and tried to cover up for her hastiness by shuffling through a stack of folders on a nearby desk. It was just an attempt to manufacture a sense of purpose – anything to distract her from the sudden heaviness in her chest. “Um, okay.”

Nicole hesitated, glancing down at the folders, then at Waverly again. “Did I say something on our date that made you uncomfortable? I mean, you didn’t text or call at all until you asked me to come here. If my divorce came as a shock –”

“What? No!” Waverly didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. “I don’t care that you’ve been married before, it’s definitely not about that.”

“But there is something.”

Waverly forced herself to look up from her folder shuffling. She was scared that she would see disappointment or sadness or even frustration on Nicole’s face, but instead she was soft with concern. She looked so heartfelt and sincere that Waverly had to fight down a sudden urge to cry.

“It’s not you, it’s me,” she said, and immediately cringed. “Okay, that doesn’t sound great. I don’t mean it like that, I mean –”

In the back of her head was the voice. This is not Waverly Earp. This is messy, and new. Waverly is not messy, and Waverly doesn’t like it when things change. Now tell her gently, Waverly. Now let her go.

But for once there was a louder voice. She thought of Wynonna, her sister, the biggest mess she knew, and ever-changing. Her sister who loved her, and believed in her, and knew that there was so much more to her than any one voice could declare.

“I like you a lot, Nicole!” said Waverly Earp, “Like, a _lot_, more than I’ve liked anyone in a really long time. I know I got kind of weird on our date, and it’s because – well, this is all new to me. I…I was a little scared. But I’m sick of being scared! I’m sick of caring about what other people think about me! You make me want to stop caring about what other people think. You make me forget to pretend. You make me feel like _myself_, whatever the hell that is.” She paused to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding in her chest.

Nicole stared. Waverly couldn’t place the look on her face. For the first time since she’d started talking, she was nervous.

“Sorry,” she said, “I guess that was a little…too much.”

“No,” Nicole said softly, “No, you could never be too much.”

“Oh my god.” Waverly buried her face in her hands; she couldn’t stop herself from laughing, anxious and thrilled and jumpy with adrenaline. “This is what I mean! You’re so…you’re so _good_. I’ve never had anyone look at me, or listen to me, the way that – I mean, how are you even real?”

“I mean…it’s not like I’m some magical fairy princess. You know how wild this has been for _me?_ I just left my wife and moved to a town in the middle of nowhere. Up until a few weeks ago, I had no idea what the hell I was going to do with myself. And then –” Nicole swallowed. There was something new in her eyes now, a sweet and trembling vulnerability that made Waverly’s chest tighten. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet. “And then I meet this beautiful girl, who isn’t just beautiful, but also thoughtful and fun and curious, the cutest type of nerd, and I want to be around her all the time, because when she talks she makes me excited about things I never thought to notice, and things I forgot mattered. For the first time since I blew up my life, I’m looking forward to tomorrow. I couldn’t imagine that I’d ever feel settled again, but then she comes along, and I remember what it’s like to stand on solid ground.” Nicole let out a breath. “So, yeah. Was _that_ too much?”

Waverly blinked dumbly. Her heart was beating in her throat. “No,” she managed to say, “I don’t think it was.”

She could hardly believe what Nicole had just told her, but she understood it. Of course she understood. She could stay in Purgatory forever, or travel the whole world, and it wouldn’t matter one way or another. It wasn’t the town that allowed her to feel safe, and it wasn’t the town that allowed her to feel whole. It was this – the basement she knew by heart, and the woman she let herself like, and the freedom to know what she wanted and be _happy_ about it.

Waverly didn’t know what she was supposed to do now, but she knew what she wanted to do. As long as she was ignoring all her inhibitions, she might as well give into one more impulse. She took a step forward, reached out and slipped her hand into Nicole’s.

“Can I kiss you?”

A flicker of surprise brushed across Nicole’s face – then amazement, then hope. They were close, so close that Waverly could see the way the light caught in Nicole’s eyelashes and turned them gold. She could feel the heat from her body, the rise and fall of her chest and the pink of her cheeks. Seeing her smile blossom made Waverly briefly forget how to breathe.

The first kiss was gentle, a little awkward, their bodies still shy and searching. They found real desire in the second kiss, and by the third kiss they had lost themselves in each other. They knocked into the desk; folders scattered across the floor. It was as though Waverly had never been kissed before; every sensation was a surprise, every feeling so brilliantly new that it almost hurt. Nicole was tender and fervent and vulnerable and frantic all at once, and Waverly wanted to give her the world.

“Waverly? Are you and your friend still down there?”

Nicole pulled away. Waverly was sitting on the desk now, her arms around Nicole’s neck, her fingers tangled in Nicole’s hair. They could hear the head archivist, hesitating at the top of the basement stairs. Waverly struggled to catch her breath and bring herself back to earth.

“Yes,” she finally called, “We’ll be up in just a second.”

“Okay. I thought I heard a strange noise; are you both alright?”

“Everything’s – _shh!_” Nicole had started giggling, and Waverly swatted her shoulder, trying to stifle her own laughter. “Everything’s great!”

They waited until they heard the archivist’s footsteps fade, and then Nicole leaned forward to rest her forehead against Waverly’s.

“I like you too,” she whispered, “Like, a _lot_.”

This was Waverly Earp, dusty and laughing and full of butterflies. She reached out to brush an eyelash from Nicole’s cheek, and Nicole took her hand and kissed her palm. Her face was like the moon, round and beautiful in the half-darkness, and Waverly thought: _This is the perfect moment. Me and her, and the warmth of her skin, and an old empty room full of memories._

“Do you want to go out again sometime, Officer Haught?”

“Ms. Earp, I would like that very much.”

_I want to live in this moment forever_, thought Waverly, leaning in for one more kiss. _This moment feels like home. _


	11. Chapter 11

They visited the nearest animal shelter, and Nicole watched Waverly as she lost her mind over every new cat she met.

“It’s too hard!” Waverly wailed, “They’re all so good, I want to adopt every one of them!”

In the end, though, the choice was easy. The kittens tumbled over to Waverly like they knew her. They were striped and gray, their fur softer than anything Waverly had felt before. The smaller one was a little shy, staring curiously at her fingers but shrinking away when she tried to pet him. The bigger one jumped on to her lap and kneaded her thighs, purring when she scratched his ears. Obviously, now that she had a cat on top of her, Waverly could never move again, so Nicole graciously offered to speak with a shelter attendant for her.

“They’re siblings,” she informed Waverly a moment later, “You’d have to adopt them together.” She studied Waverly’s face for a moment, then grinned. “But that doesn’t matter to you, does it? You’ve already decided.”

“I mean, what am I supposed to do? Leave them behind?” The smaller kitten had decided that Waverly wasn’t entirely threatening after all; he curled up at her side and closed his eyes. Waverly’s heart swelled. She looked up to Nicole and beamed. “Thank you.”

Nicole raised her eyebrows. “For what?”

“For helping me do this! For knowing that I wanted this.”

She wasn’t sure how to tell Nicole just how much this meant to her. Maybe she didn’t have to tell her, though. Maybe it was enough to just be here with her, surrounded by kittens, and reach out to hold her hand.

*

It took a while for Wynonna to get used to hanging out with a cop, but she came around, sort of.

“Best of fifteen!” Wynonna demanded, dropping her arm back on to the table. Nicole glanced over at Waverly incredulously. Waverly just shrugged. She had lost interest around round six and was now sitting on the floor reading a magazine.

“Are you sure you want to do this _again?_” Nicole asked, but Wynonna just gritted her teeth and stuck out her hand.

This time, Wynonna didn’t even last for half a minute. Nicole slammed her arm on to the table within a few seconds.

“Oh my god!” Wynonna yelled, throwing her hands into the air, “You’re cheating! You have to be! No one is _this good_ at arm wrestling!”

“You go, baby,” Waverly called idly, flipping a magazine page. Wynonna glowered at her, indignant.

“Whose side are you on, anyway?! Best of sixteen!”

Nicole sighed, wrapping her hand around Wynonna’s yet again. Waverly laughed and shrugged.

“Come on, you can’t blame me for wanting to support my girlfriend.”

As soon as the word was out of her mouth, she froze. She still hadn’t gotten up off the floor, but her heart was suddenly pounding like she’d run a marathon. She saw Nicole start and turn.

“I’m your girlfriend?”

Waverly’s cheeks were hot; she could feel a nervous smile pulling at her lips. “I mean…I think so. I hope so. If you want to be.”

Nicole’s eyes grew soft and hopeful. “Waverly, of course I –”

“Ha HA!” Wynonna smashed Nicole’s arm on to the table and immediately leaped to her feet, cheering. “I did it! That was all me, baby! Sucks to _suck_ –” She finally saw the look on Nicole’s face, and then the look on Waverly’s. “Oh, wait – were you guys saying something?”

*

There were slices of Purgatory that she had never shared with anyone else. She loved them too much; they were a piece of her heart. She knew that if someone she loved couldn’t understand this part of her, she would always wonder if they really loved her back.

She didn’t worry with Nicole. She took her to the edge of town, the wild places with the long scratchy grass and the thick gracious trees and the lake like a circle of polished mirror. They stood together, listening to insects and birdsong, watching the geese dip their beaks into the clear water and stretch their dark necks to the sky. It was cold enough that Waverly’s breath lingered in a white cloud, but she didn’t care.

“Every time I come here, I get lost in it all,” she said, “I feel so…so calm, I forget that there are things to worry about and keep track of and figure out – it’s maybe the closest I’ve ever come to a religious experience.”

Nicole sighed and leaned into Waverly, wrapping her arms around her waist and resting her cheek on the top of her head. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. The silence between them was sweet and still and perfectly content. Words were nice, but the quiet was just as lovely.

*

Waverly liked to surprise Nicole at work with coffee or pastries or just her presence. Nicole was a good officer and not-so-secretly Nedley’s favorite, which was great for her, but also meant that she was almost always occupied with something. There were times when she couldn’t spare Waverly more than a smile and a thank you. But there were also times she stole a few minutes out of her schedule to talk with her, ask her questions, tell her about her day. There were even some occasions when they could hide away in a closet or empty room, and they would kiss and touch and hold each other until Nicole finally had to tear away and return to her duties.

Waverly’s favorite part of her visits was the way Nicole brightened as soon as she saw her, as though she was without a doubt the best part of the day.

“Hey, you.” Nicole leaned over a stack of paperwork to ruffle Waverly’s hair. “Do you bring any treats?”

“Nope, sorry, it’s just me.”

“Ah, my favorite treat. You’re still coming over tonight, right?”

They squabbled playfully about what they were going to cook for dinner and recounted some new town gossip, and then Nicole remembered her paperwork.

“I should probably get back to this.” She stood up and briefly rested her forehead against Waverly’s. Of course Waverly had to lean in and give her a quick kiss.

“Waverly?”

The two of them leaped apart. Chrissy Nedley had just walked out of her father’s office and was blinking at them from the doorway. Nicole glanced over at Waverly, uncertain, waiting for a cue on what she should do.

Waverly smiled. “Hi, Chrissy! I just dropped by to see Nicole. Where are you headed? Do you want a ride?”

Chrissy followed Waverly out of the police station. “Um…so…you and Officer Haught…were you…?”

“We’re dating,” Waverly explained. She braced herself to feel anxious or worried or defensive, but all she felt was giddy delight. The truth was, every time she said the words, she was filled with wonder – _We’re dating! I’m dating Nicole fricking Haught! _She could barely believe it; it seemed too good to be true.

She still searched for Chrissy’s response, though. Old habits died hard, and even though she was certain that there was nothing Chrissy could say or do to change the way she felt about Nicole, there was a part of her that would be crushed if her old best friend started to despise her.

Chrissy frowned. Then started. Then blinked, and beamed. “Waverly! That’s great. I _knew_ something was up with you. You’ve seemed so much happier lately.”

“I am happier.” Waverly smiled back at her. She was so light and relieved that for a split second she thought she might cry. “She makes me _happy_.”

*

Nicole was invited to the Earps’ place for Christmas. They ate and drank and opened presents and drank some more, and when Wynonna was sufficiently cozy in the warm spell of alcohol, she put on some bright loud music, turned it all the way up and started dancing. Waverly didn’t need to be asked to join her.

Aunt Gus laughed and rolled her eyes before retiring to the kitchen to clean up. Wynonna and Waverly jumped and stomped and shimmied around the dining room, yelling along with the lyrics and making up the parts they didn’t know, flush with pure childish joy. Nicole tried to hang back and watch, but Waverly wasn’t about to let that happen on her watch. “Dance with us!” she cried, holding out her hands. Nicole shook her head, grinning ruefully.

“I can’t. I don’t know how to dance.”

“There isn’t really anything to know, you just…do it!” Waverly draped her arms around Nicole’s shoulders, pulling her close. “Come on. Dance with _me_.”

And the rest of the night was the three of them in the dining room, spinning around the table, punching the air, falling into each other and laughing. Gus watched and smiled, dropping in once or twice to play some favorite songs from her childhood. Wynonna threw her arms up and declared that she was the dancing queen. Nicole twirled Waverly in her arms, and Waverly was full of wonder and contented delight. Her sister and her girlfriend. Two people she had never expected, who she had tried to believe she didn’t need. Two people she loved more than anything in the world.

Outside the window she could see a clean frosty blanket of snow, stark against the starry blackness of the sky, and the house was rich with the smell of gingerbread and pine. And the house was warm with the sounds of their music and their glee. And their tree was small but the lights were so bright, and Nicole’s eyes twinkled like stars.

“High kick!” Wynonna yelled. She did it too, and because she was standing on a chair, she immediately started to topple over. Thankfully, Nicole steadied her before the situation got too dire.

“Thanks,” Wynonna said, climbing back down to the floor. And then: “High kick 2.0!”

That was Christmas.

*

She loved to wake up next to Nicole Haught. She loved the way she looked in the murky half-light, the rise and fall of her chest, her parted lips, her fiery hair spilling over the pillow. She loved the way she smelled, musky and sweet, and she loved the way she felt, soft and warm. Nicole was always warm. Waverly curled up against her, resting her hand on Nicole’s waist and burrowing her head in Nicole’s shoulder

Nicole woke up slowly, blinking open her eyes and smiling.

“Hey there.” She stretched and yawned. “What time is it?”

“Don’t get up,” Waverly murmured, “Not yet.”

Nicole ran her fingers through Waverly’s hair, touched the back of her neck, rested her chin on Waverly’s head. “Okay. Not yet.”

The early morning was quiet and gray, and they held each other under the blankets, drowsy and comfortable. Nicole ran her thumb along the bare skin of Waverly’s shoulder, and Waverly was overcome by a rush of warmth, sweeter and more intimate than anything she had ever experienced before. “Nicole?” she whispered.

“Yeah?”

“I think I love you.”

Nicole didn’t even wait a beat. “I love you too, Waverly Earp.”

Waverly believed it. How strange and wonderful, to live in the world instead of in her head. Everything seemed new, everything seemed brighter and more brilliant. Waverly knew she was falling, and she let herself fall. For once she didn’t feel the need to know where she was going to land. For once she was sure that there would be someone waiting to catch her.

She was perfectly happy, perfectly at peace. She nestled into Nicole’s chest and closed her eyes, and within a few seconds she had fallen asleep in her girlfriend’s arms. There was no place she would rather be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has been reading this fic from its early chapters and to everyone who's just hopped on. I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.


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